


Hunted

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Hunting, Torture, Violence, a different justice system than out world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, the justice system is a little different. It has, since the beginning of time, always run on a principal of “eye for an eye”. Those who rape are castrated; those who steal, lose fingers or limbs depending on the value of what they stole, and those who murder are sent to the killgrounds where they are hunted by the family members of the deceased for two months or until they’re killed. If they survive past that then they get a trial in court. This is the way the world has always been and the world does love its sick little games. What happens when Gavin is framed for the murder of a young girl?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The entirety of the company was uprooted. Everyone was distraught and tense with stress. Many of the employees were making their own theories about what happened while others tried to do everything in their power to prove them wrong. Some of the more sadistic ones quietly made bets only to be chastised for it later. Either way, no one could deny the impact this was having on Roosterteeth. Not in this world.

Burnie paced in his office, his computer monitor showing a live stream that switched between views of a white room with chatting individuals, an arena full of forest, and a white padded cell where one individual with sandy-colored hair was curled into the corner currently crying his eyes out with his head against his knees and his arms bound in a strait jacket. The pacing man sighed in frustration and ran a hand over his face, not sure if he would be able to watch the whole thing.

Across the hall, Ryan, Jack, Ray, and Geoff huddled around a large monitor on the wall, biting their nails and sitting in relative melancholy as they watched until Michael joined them and made a sound of disgust after seeing the screen, “Why the fuck is this on? Turn that shit off! We should be trying to figure out a way to help him!”

“Michael, we’ve already looked and looked and looked and there’s nothing we can do.” Geoff said quietly despite the other man’s yelling, his normally sleepy looking eyes even more heavy, “This is the law. We can’t interfere.”

“But we all know he didn’t do it! This isn’t fair goddammit!” Michael grabbed a fistful of his own hair out of frustration.

That was when Geoff’s tone raised, “We don’t live in a society fueled by justice, Michael. We live in a society fueled by revenge. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it always will be. It will never be innocent until proven guilty because the world can’t afford it to be that way. It’s guilty until proven innocent and the evidence weighing against him was too much to fight.” He rubbed at his forehead, “Of course he didn’t do it, but the rest of the world isn’t going to believe that. The sick sadistic bastards want a hunt and we have no choice but to let it happen. He either dies in the killgrounds or he survives and goes to trial.”

Michael had gone silent and was staring at the ground, his fists clenched in anger. His voice wavered when he spoke, “It’s two months, Geoff. How do you expect him to survive a two month hunt?”

The older man shrugged, “He’s nothing if not resourceful. He’ll find a way. Even if he is scared shitless right now…”

“Uh, guys… it’s starting…” Ray’s voice was gentle but alerted them to move their attention to the screen where the clustered individuals had now taken their seats and the door of the padded cell had been kicked open, several guards rushing into the white room.

At the moment the door was kicked open, the man who had been crying jumped in surprise and tried to back further into the corner as if trying to escape but the guards had grabbed him easily and dragged him kicking and screaming from the room. Everyone looked on with baited breath.

“I can’t watch this…” Michael nearly whimpered and walked out of the room, closing the door shut behind him.

The others didn’t notice but watched as their friend thrashed in the arms of the guards as they dragged him to the door of the arena, screaming that he was innocent in that accent of his, “Please! Please! I didn’t kill her! It wasn’t me! Please, let me go! I didn’t do it!” The guards, ignoring the pleading, reached the door and removed the strait jacket from the thrashing man, still able to have a tight grip on him to prevent him from running away.

One of them spoke, “You have forty-eight hours before the hunt begins. It will end in two months or at the time of your death. If you have a God, you’d better start praying to him.”

“Please, you don’t understand! I was framed! It wasn’t me, I swear it!”

“Shut up.” The guard grabbed one of his arms and clasped something around his wrist; a timer, “When the forty-eight hours are up the family will start hunting for you. If you are truly innocent, then fight for it. If not, then your guilty conscience will be your demise.” He grabbed the other man’s hair then and shoved him through the door, jamming it shut behind him and locking it.

The screen view changed to a shot of the door from inside the arena. The sandy-haired man had crawled on his knees over to the door and was banging on it in desperation, tears streaming down his cheeks but he didn’t care, “Please! You can’t do this to me! I’m an innocent! Please!”

Ray was tense as he watched, wanting to shout at the screen but muttered under his breath instead, “You’ve only got two days to hide, Vav. Use it, dammit.”

A long while flew by filled with tears and pleas until the man on screen looked down at his timer and the panic began to set in with the realization that he had just wasted an hour of his time. With his arms wrapped tightly around himself, he stood from his knees and turned to the trees behind him warily before stumbling off into the foliage and disappearing from the view of the camera.

Geoff leaned forward with a rough sigh, putting his head in his hands, “Come on, buddy… You can do this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin struggles to find a safe place to hide before the hunt begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a little inspiration to write this today. This chapter unfortunately is marking the beginning of this story’s hiatus while I work on catching the Harem AU up to speed. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Gavin was a panicked mess, scrambling madly through the forested arena. The dense foliage made it hard to tell if it was day or night and he could have sworn he had passed a couple trees more than once.

Earlier he had been in hysterics about being hunted. Now he was more subdued but still crying, heavy tears rolling down red cheeks as he tried to focus. He had long since taken his shoes off in favor of running barefoot and leaving less recognizable prints for the trackers to find.They were slung over his shoulders where he had tied them together by the laces.

He tried to move in a sporadic way, ducking under branches and leaping over boulders, but it was hard to gauge exactly where he was, especially with as terrified as he was. If he wasn’t careful, he could wander too close to the arena entrance and the trackers would catch him before he could blink.

Just the thought of the trackers was enough to put a falter in his step. He could remember watching hunts like this on TV back in the UK. It had always terrified him as a child to see the creative ways that the trackers would slaughter who they were hunting. Sometimes the truly sadistic and vengeful families would catch their prey and keep them alive for days, torturing them before the district would send in a mercy killer to end it. Often, the prey would crawl to the killer begging for death which would be delivered swiftly.

His father, having been the head tracker of his generation, made all of his children watch, both to teach a lesson and to spark an interest in the future trackers of the new generation.

The tradition was that the firstborn would take up the reigns as head tracker but the other children were more than welcome to take part in the training. Gavin’s blatant disgust and lack of interest in tracking put his father in a sour mood. When asked, Gavin had refused to partake in training; the place and the thought of killing someone else (whether they had killed someone he loved or not)  made him sick to his stomach. He shied away from it, leaving the position to his younger brother, George, who was more than excited to accept. His father was not hesitant or quiet about his disappointment in his oldest’s decision.

Now Gavin regretted everything. At least if he had gone to the training he would know what he was up against and maybe be able to counteract or avoid it altogether. As it was he had no clue what to expect. It terrified him more than he ever imagined it could.

As his attention wandered, he stopped watching where he was going and tripped over a sharp rock, falling face first into the dirt. Biting his tongue against a cry of agony, he slowly picked himself up and looked back at his throbbing foot, cut open and bleeding. The cut was jagged and rough and covered in dirt, not too deep but enough to leave a trail if he didn’t do something about it.

Great. Now he was injured too.

He was going to die out here.

The thought raced across his mind and sent an icy chill down his spine. He didn’t even kill the girl that they were hunting him for but he was going to die in this arena. Probably slowly and painfully if his luck was any indication of his fate. He was going to die alone, scared, pleading for his life as they took it from him.

This realization hit him so hard that he convulsed with it, curling up as a new wave of despair brought more tears and choked sobs tore from his throat. He wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked, trying to console himself and keep his whimpering to a minimum. Why, he didn’t know. The timer on his wrist told him he had another 14 hours left before the hunt even began, but he supposed it was best to practice staying quiet when he really wanted to scream.

Looking down at his foot after a long while, he reached for the left sleeve of his t-shirt and tugged hard, bringing a satisfying tearing sound to his ears as he ripped it off and slid it down his arm. Another sharp tug gave him a long strip of cloth which he wrapped around his foot and tied tightly as he sniffled and wiped furiously at his eyes. It would hold for a little while. He had to get a hold of himself enough to move; to keep looking or he would die for sure.

Gavin looked around slowly, gathering up his shoes which had fallen from his shoulder and putting them back where they had been. The forest all looked the same no matter where he turned and it frustrated him. How was he supposed to survive in a place he couldn’t even navigate?

A desperate whine escaped him but he picked himself up and began to limp over to a tree, using it as a support to gain his bearings. After a few slow, deep, steadying breaths, he limped forward, determined to try and make it through this hunt alive.

~~~~****~~~~****~~~~

Five hours later, he was exhausted. Every step was another agony, barely able to stand on his foot at this point. He hurt all over, he was starving, he was thirsty, and he could barely keep his eyes open.  _Rest, stop, rest;_  it was the mantra his mind kept repeating even though he knew he couldn’t listen to it. With the mounting possibility of a 12 hour black out, he couldn’t afford to listen. Stopping in the open would ensure his capture before the hunt even began.

Finding a place to hide, however, was proving impossible in his condition. Everything was spinning and hurt and he couldn’t focus on what he was looking for. He couldn’t focus at all.

An unearthed root caught his injured foot and he hissed as he fell to the ground once again. This time though, he didn’t bother to pick himself up. It was too much. Too much stress, too much pain, too much terror, too much, too much, too much. He lay quietly, staring into the dark shade the forest provided and listening to the chirping of birds and the songs of insects and other wildlife that called this arena home. It was almost like a soothing lullaby, softly dragging a deep darkness of comatose nature over him and pulling his eyes shut.

It was quiet; peaceful. He wanted to stay wrapped in this darkness that promised him shelter. He couldn’t feel anything anymore, just a happy sense of tranquility. Something he had been severely lacking over the past three days. He didn’t care if he never woke up again so long as he got to stay within this dark realm whose shadows caressed him like a patient lover.

But it wasn’t meant to last. The darkness suddenly twisted and warped and a pain lanced through his skull. The black stretched and contracted before shattering and revealing a man with a mustache, holding a machete and yanking him up by his hair.

He screamed, clawing at the hand, terrified that he had already been caught. He had only closed his eyes for a minute! He was sure of it!

The man threw him against a tree and he choked on his gasp at the rough treatment. He tried scrambling away; everything was moving too fast, he couldn’t think straight, didn’t see where he was going until he ran into another pair of boots with spike heels; a woman.

He only had time to swallow before he was kicked back and the toes of one of those boots were pinning him down by his chest.

He tried to plead, “Please! I didn’t do it! It wasn’t me! Please!” and grabbed the boot in a desperate attempt at escaping but she merely lifted her own machete, holding it about 6 inches from his nose before moving it to the side a little and dropping it. The blade sliced through his cheek and ear and he cried out, jerking away from it. He trembled beneath her, whimpering little ‘pleases’ and ‘don’ts’ as salty tears burned the fresh cut.

She shifted suddenly and he thought she was going to move, but suddenly the heel of her boot stabbed into his chest and he heard the sickening crack of his sternum before he felt it and then he was screaming.

Screaming himself awake back to reality; jerking himself away from where he had fallen on the ground onto a rock that had been pressing into his chest and leaving a painful mark.

Still trembling and panting he frantically looked around for the man and woman but they were nowhere to be seen. His fingers quickly ghosted over his cheek and chest, checking and finding nothing.

_It was… a nightmare…,_ He swallowed and held himself for a moment, trembling,  _Just a nightmare… You’re okay, Gav…_

Gavin ran a hand over his face and shuddered before looking around, and shakily standing. A glance down at his timer showed that he had been asleep for 4 hours and he had 5 of them left. He had to get out of the open.

Stumbling to a tree to brace himself, he looked up. The foliage was too dense to see any part of the sky much less the upper network of branching. If he could get to the top, he might have a chance.

Another quick look around and he spotted a tree with low enough branches for him to drag his weary body up into the natural camouflage. Five steps fond him at the base of the tree and he gripped the lowest branch which was level with his neck. It took everything he had to pull himself up onto it but he did and the sense of accomplishment spurred him on.

He kept grabbing branches and pulling himself up into the trees and out of view. Each successful climb from branch to branch made him feel safer and as he broke through the top and found the moon, full and bright, he sighed and almost broke down in something akin to relief.

Climbing back under the canopy, he found a thick cluster of branches and carefully tested their strength. They held his weight with ease and he didn’t hesitate to lay down on them and close his eyes. At this point he knew the next time he opened them, the hunt would have begun and it would either mark the beginning of his death or the start of his acquittal. Which one would be entirely up to him.


End file.
